


A moment of perfection

by Hjoetra



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Angst, Darkness, Death, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Love, Other, Vampires, Worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 21:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hjoetra/pseuds/Hjoetra
Summary: When the count of Krolock bemoans his fate at night in the cemetery, he thinks he is quite alone.He does not suspect that his son hears all his words.And a single moment can change the course of events drastically...





	A moment of perfection

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dears,  
> First of all I would be very happy if you would leave me a short comment and tell me if you like this fanfiction. :)  
> Of course, I also like to answer questions.  
> Also, you should know that I usually associate my stories with certain songs or soundtracks, depending on the mood in each scene. That's why I write you the names of the tracks above so you can listen to them if you feel like it;)  
> Have fun !
> 
> By the way I'm NOT a native speaker so please be patient with me :)

Die unstillbare Gier - Tanz der Vampire  
Vienna Teng – Lullaby for a stormy night  
Sleepsong - Secret Garden

 

 

"Finally night,  
No star to see.  
The moon is hiding,  
Because he dreads me.  
No light in the ocean,  
No false ray of hope,  
Only the silence lives in me,  
The silhouettes of my torment "

Herbert raised his head and listened.  
His father's voice was clear and echoed over the graveyard that was abandoned at this hour of the night.  
Not infrequently when his father felt like being on his own he came here.  
But to meet him there just that exact night surprised the young heir.  
After all there was this young girl called Sarah in the castle, the beautiful "star child" from the village.  
The beauty his father had adored from the moment he first laid his eyes on her.  
The attraction that this young creature seemed to have on his father the count, Herbert couldn`t quite understand.  
It had less to do with the fact that she was a woman than with her naivety.  
The young thing had long ago sensed that her life was threatened at this place and yet made no attempt to escape.  
On the contrary - she seemed to regard her stay in the castle as an adventure and a pleasant change in her ordinary life.  
What a stupid child she was.

The young vampire inevitably shook his head at the thought.  
And worst of all there was a fear that his father was about to lose his undead heart to this passionate, suspense-stricken creature.  
Although he did not want to admit it to himself or anyone else Herbert loved his father in secret from the bottom of his soul.  
It was a love that slept deep within him, which he had once buried there, surrounded by the chains and walls called solitude and mourning.  
Whether his father felt anything for him in return Herbert could not say.  
The proud Count of rolock never showed emotions.  
His appearance and his actions were of the utmost composure and dignity.  
He was almost never losing his face, at the most in situations when desperation over his hopeless situation overwhelmed him.  
Moments like this one seemed to be.

Herbert stepped from one foot to the other indecisively.  
For what he had had in mind he really could not use his father nearby.  
At the same time he did not long for anything more than to cross the hated cemetery to be with her.

Herbert had loved his mother.  
She had been a beautiful and graceful woman - an angel in the eyes of the young boy who had grown up surrounded by the cold walls of an old castle in the heart of the Carpathians.  
There hadn`t been other children in the castle and the depressing silence of the wide corridors and halls had had a depressing effect on the soul of the sensitive, creative and artistically talented young heir.  
Whenever loneliness and boredom had tormented him too much he grabbed his oil paints and tried to capture his thoughts and dreams on the canvas.  
His imagination had often carried him far away from home - to distant lands where the most unusual people and animals lived and where the sun was always shining. 

A traveler had once visited the castle on a misty day in late autumn and reported to Herbert at the dinner table about his travels to such unexplored parts of the world.  
Thus the interest of the young count had been awakened and a dream came to life:  
To leave this place and see the wonders of this unknown yet so close world that lays beyond the high castle walls.  
Herbert would have loved to talk to the strange traveler for a longer time but he had quickly been sent to bed and when he awoke in the morning the guest had already gonw and he was told the their guest had left the castle already.  
Of course, Herbert had been very sad about that and so he consoled himself to imagine where his next trip would go.  
That the traveler never had continued his journes Herbert knew now.

And so the young heir spent his childhood in constant darkness and loneliness.  
The only ray of hope in this dreary time of his life was his beloved mother.  
She had understood him listened to him when he told her one of his many stories, which he had made up when he couldn`t sleep at night and she also had supported him in his creativity.  
Whenever Herbert was afraid or unhappy she was there hugging him and finding consoling words.  
Innumerable times Herbert had fled into her bower at night when one of the frequent storms in the area swept over the castle.  
Then she wrapped him in a comforting warm blanket, sat down with him on her lap close to the tall tower window and sang for him until he fell asleep.

Even today he could hear her reassuring, soft voice:

"Little child, be not afraid  
the rain pounds harsh against the glass  
like to unwanted stranger  
there is no danger  
I'm here tonight.

Little child, be not afraid  
thunder explodes and lightning flash  
Illuminate your tearstained face  
I'm here tonight.

And someday you`ll know  
that nature is like that  
This same rain that draws you near me  
If on rivers and land  
and forests and sand  
Makes the beautiful world that you see  
In the morning ....

(Vienna Teng - Lullaby for a stormy night)

Herbert flinched.  
He brought his hand to his face and wiped away a tear which had made its way down his cheek.  
He had been so engrossed in his memories that he didn't realize he was crying.  
Yes, he missed his mother very much.  
Every day, every hour, every minute.  
Even after so many years the loss hurt more than he could describe.  
And yet he felt her presence whenever he quarreled with his fate and felt lost and alone in the world.  
She was gone but her goodness and warmth of heart lived on in Herbert, though he often doubted it.  
His father was so different.  
Even as a child Herbert had a great respect for him.  
For the young count his father was like the darkest hour of the night.  
Ruthless, cool and calculating.  
Only very rarely did he see him smile or even laugh.  
Only when he was with his mother did the rigid, cold facade of Count of Krolock seem to crumble and the features of a cheerful and kind-hearted man were visible.  
But as the countess fell ill these already rare moments of apparent joy disappeared more and more.  
At that time - Herbert was just a boy of eight - the child learned - far too soon - what it meant to be an adult.  
His father had not left the bed of his beloved wife, days, weeks, he had neither eaten nor drunk and indulged in his grief.  
What was going on in the boy in that blackest of hours - no one had ever asked afterwards.  
He had to cope with the pain and his despair himself.  
Herbert would never forget the last words his mother had addressed to him:  
"Herbert, be kind and brave. Your father loves you, he only forgets it sometimes! "  
Herbert could only vaguely remember the following hours.  
All he knew was that his father had somehow stepped out of the shadows behind him, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him out of the room.  
After the mother's death, Herbert's father had finally sealed himself off from everything.  
Only occasionally did Herbert see him and their conversations were limited to the bare minimum.

And so Herbert had grown into a young man who lived his own life and indulged in cravings such as expensive dresses, pomp and exuberant celebrations.  
The thirst for blood and the realization that he, too, as his father was condemned to live forever as a vampire, came much later - on Herbert's 23th birthday to be exact - as a young vampire on the ball, which wasn't meant to be there, lost control and bit him.  
However, since the young man already knew about his father's nature, which he shared with most of the other castle dwellers whose numbers increased year by year - he was not much concerned about the fact that the same fate awaited him.  
This was the evening when his father first lost his temper in front of everyone.  
He raved and tore the vampire to pieces in front of a shocked audience.  
Herbert was not too sure but he thought he had heard his father crying that night in his bower.  
Never before had he seen the vampire count in such rage.  
Herbert was deeply astonished since his father had otherwise never paid much attention to his well-being.  
Maybe he loved him secretly.

His father's spirited voice made Herbert come back to reality.  
Inwardly he cursed himself that he didn't visit the cemetery earlier.  
He had tried to avoid at all cost to meet the other vampires who had their dormitories at the cemetery.  
Their questions would have been enourmous.  
What was wrong with his father that he let his thoughts run free in the cemetery right now?  
He should have been busy with the preparing of the upcoming ball!  
Herbert turned to leave.

"Only a moment of luck for me,  
I accept eternal suffering  
But all hope is in vain,  
Because the hunger never ever stops. "

Herbert stopped dead in his tracks.


End file.
